


special

by newbie1990



Category: Only Ever Yours - Louise O'Neill
Genre: Eating Disorders, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Victim Blaming, fatphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5627368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newbie1990/pseuds/newbie1990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>after the Father's visit, isabel changes. (isabel POV.) </p><p>(re-edited.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	special

i can't look at her. i can't see her, not now. i am blessed, chastity-ruth said as she scrubbed the blood from my skin, peered at the bruises and tears. i am honoured above all women. i nodded, i agreed.

but i can't feel it. all i feel is tainted. like something vile is growing inside me, something no-one else can see.

i used to feel safe here. He only visited on my design dates, and i pushed down the aches and fears and whispers. He was the Father. He was Good, He was Right, He was Above All.

i used to feel safe here. here was freida. here were the chastities who would smile so modestly when they saw me.

i can't see freida. she'll see it before anyone else does, she knows me better than anyone. she'll look, and she'll run away.

she sends me message requests and i sit on my hands to keep from accepting them. i bite my fingers, long to tear off my skin. i look in the mirror and i'm still isabel, still perfect. i want to claw at the mirror.

i watch myself, still and steady. freida wouldn't want this. we are good girls. we are calm and quiet and ever pretty. nothing about me is pretty any more. i am the blood spatters of womenstruation. i am the shit on agyness' dressing gown. i am fear sweat trickling down my back as i try to hold myself in, to keep from tearing apart. i shove my fist into my mouth. i want to scream.

i can't see the others, can't see the delight in megan's eyes as she realises what i am now, the disappointment in freida's. i thought she was a good girl. i thought she was special.

special special special. that's what they told me i was. that's what he told me, every time he saw me. is this what special means? something so ugly and painful and raw? i don't want to be special any more. i want to be ordinary. i want to be nothing. i want to disappear.

He should have to look at me and see what i am, to see how special feels. and i shouldn't think this way, these moments where it feels like i'm tearing open, the vileness seeping out.

i can't feel this way. i can't feel this way. we honour the Father, we trust and obey. what am i if i can't even do that? nothing i've ever heard of. and i know more than anyone else does. about non-compliance. about the eves who get sent Underground. because i'm special. because special means people tell you what you want to hear.

maybe i was always this. maybe this was always what special meant. i can't be isabel any more. i have to be something else.

and so i eat. and it feels the way the few seconds before sleep feel, heavy eyelids. and then the pain comes back, raw and red and screaming. i deserve it. this is what special is. pain, disgust.

i wonder if that part of me will crawl out of my throat too, if i'll be safe again. each time i feel a little cleaner, a little calmer. but i'm not clean, i'm not calm. i'm disgusting. this is disgusting.

maybe He always knew. that i tensed myself ready for His visits, that i wished they would end. maybe this was the punishment.

maybe it's not me, says a voice inside me, a treacherous hiss. maybe it's Him.

freida won't stop, she won't let go. i wish with all my heart she would. i want her to save me. want her to never let go. she can't save me. there's nothing to save me from. i'll get what i deserve. maybe the pyre is better than Him.

He asked me afterwards, smiling the most awful of His smiles, if i'd liked it. and i said yes. the word burned in my mouth afterwards, like the aftertaste of so much vomit.

i miss her. i need to forget her, to protect her from myself. i need to be away from her. i'm so angry with her, pressing my nails into my palms. she'll say the same things as the chastities. you're honoured you're special i wish i was you.

if you were me you'd want to die, i think, the words so loud in my head that they drown out every mantra, every memory. but i don't say it. i'm a fake.

i'm worse than that. i go to her. i can't help it, my feet find the path and every inch of my skin and my pain and my sorrow calls out to her. good girls don't get sad. good girls smile. i can't expect anything of her, but i expect the world.


End file.
